Intricacies
by WolfPilot06
Summary: Tsuzuki Asato is a puzzle, a walking enigma. Hisoka doesn't pretend to know him, but he wants to. Sometimes, though, it doesn't matter.


**Title:** Intricacies  
**Author:** Me  
**Pairings:** Tsu/His  
**Notes:** _Was_ an on-the-spot, last minute ficcie for Hisoka's birthday.  Is now belated, with a (terrible) ending stuck on the end of it. .  
  
  
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There was nothing Hisoka liked better than to wake up in Tsuzuki's arms. It was a rare thing - a once in a while happening, when the youth felt complacent and lonely enough to let his partner into his bed, a mutual comforting of hurt souls. Though Hisoka'd never admit it out loud, he loved the warm, sheltered feeling that came from slowly drifting from the darkness of sleep and finding himself securely ensconced in his partner's embrace, held like precious bauble to Tsuzuki's breast.   
  
He liked to wake to the sight of drowsy amethyst eyes watching him from beneath shadowed lashes, aware of his every breath; it was a thought that made him shiver, though whether the tremors were from discomfort or from a sort of wondering joy, he was never sure. Despite his so-called "gift" of empathy, Hisoka could not figure out Tsuzuki. The man was like a never-ending puzzle; when one thought one had figured out some part of his ever-convoluted psyche, Tsuzuki would miraculously - or damnably- come up with another twist to confound one with. In the years that Hisoka had been with his partner, he had been struggling with the puzzle, trying to keep its ever-shifting pieces together long enough to catch a glimpse or two of the man hiding at the heart of it all. It was a frustrating thing, to be sure, and more often than not, Hisoka was tempted to write off Tsuzuki's problems as products of an enormous guilt complex, but some inner urging told him it was more than that. Tsuzuki's guilt didn't lead him to care for Hisoka. It didn't compel the older man to watch him with an unreadable expression on his face, darkened eyes contemplative and somehow curious as he watched Hisoka rise from the depths of slumber. Sometimes, Hisoka wondered what went on in Tsuzuki's mind - not the surface thoughts that constantly babbled about himself and cake and work and oh, was Tatsumi going to be angry because he broke the coffeepot yesterday? Instinct told the young Shinigami that there was more to Tsuzuki's complex mind - some inner layer of thought made up Tsuzuki's real self - the self that had come out a few times that Hisoka remembered.  
  
Part of it was that Tsuzuki _felt_ more than most others. Sure enough, there were the constant waves of affection and warmth from the purple-eyed man, accompanied by the occasional trivial fear or anxiety. But sometimes, a darker Tsuzuki shone from beneath the gilded façade known as Tsuzuki Asato. There were times when Hisoka caught a glimpse of an overriding fury, a vast anger at the world and the circumstances that held him to this cursed half-existence. Those were the times when Hisoka was afraid of his partner; not only of what Tsuzuki might do to him, but what he might do to _himself_. And, strangely enough, those were the days whose evenings often held an invitation for Tsuzuki to join Hisoka in his bed. It was as if Hisoka was afraid of losing his partner to the darkness that dwelled within the older man's soul. Perhaps, unconsciously, Hisoka believed that if he could only serve as Tsuzuki's anchor, that darkness could somehow be repressed and contained, if not wholly banished. Those nights, the youth would keep his empathy and focus trained solely on Tsuzuki; those nights, Hisoka's world comprised only of Tsuzuki.   
  
Sometimes, though, Hisoka wondered if he held Tsuzuki close for his _own_ sake. He could not count the nights he had stayed awake long after Tsuzuki had fallen asleep, clasped in a warm, confusing tangle of arms and legs, head tucked under Tsuzuki's chin and pressed to his chest. He would stay awake for hours, listening to the slow, measured beat of Tsuzuki's heartbeat, hyperaware of his every breath, every brush of his skin over his own. He would watch the sunrise from the safe haven Tsuzuki ironically created as a result of Hisoka's fear, wondering if it was strange that he should lay with Tsuzuki like they were lovers, when in truth they were far from it. Their relationship was a paradox, like almost everything else in Hisoka's life: they were not lovers, yet somehow, they were _more_ than lovers. Their relationship had long ago transcended all description; for the life of him, Hisoka _could_ not figure what exactly they were to each other. It was perhaps a bit cliched and exaggerated to say that he would not be able to live without his partner; more like, there would be no _reason_ to live. Hisoka lived for the comfort of Tsuzuki's embrace, for the constant puzzle his partner's psyche provided him. At times, Hisoka thought he lived for the potential love he held for his partner. Sometimes, though, Hisoka could not tell if he loved the Tsuzuki he saw everyday or the Tsuzuki that occasionally reared his dark head; or, even, if he loved the entire complexity that was Tsuzuki. Sometimes, Hisoka wondered if he loved at all. Yet, though he could not define the exact boundaries of what he felt for Tsuzuki, Hisoka knew that if Tsuzuki were to be released from his duty as a Shinigami, he himself would soon follow after. They were two halves to a whole, though often Hisoka felt as if Tsuzuki was the whole and he was merely the shadow that followed him. It was a paradox Hisoka allowed, so long as he was able to stay with Tsuzuki.  
  
But sometimes, it wasn't as complicated as he made it out to be. Hisoka craved the simple human contact Tsuzuki provided him. He hungered for the times when Tsuzuki's fingers would caress his face tenderly, almost wonderingly, as if the older man couldn't quite believe that Hisoka was allowing him this transgression of the unspoken lines that lay between them. He treasured the moments when Tsuzuki would nuzzle at his hair fondly, hold him in an inescapable cage of intertwined limbs and whisper nonsensical phrases of possession and love into his hair. Hisoka never felt the need to press it further than that. He was content to hold and to be held, and to be loved, perhaps, by Tsuzuki. These desires and emotions, however, were restricted to the sheet-entangled bed; once they rose to reenter reality, by silent assent, they had never held one another. Hisoka wasn't sure if he liked that or not. For now, though, he would let it go.  

This morning, Hisoka had expected the same to happen.  He would wake in his bed, either to a lonely bed or to the sight of Tsuzuki slumbering beside him, and it would be as if the night had never happened.  Hisoka had even braced himself against the shock that always came from the absence of his partner's embrace, prepared to curl into a ball in the shallow dip left by Tsuzuki's body and to savor the remaining traces of his presence in an effort to, in some deluded way, take enough of Tsuzuki into himself to assuage some of the loneliness he felt whenever they were separated.  Instead, Hisoka found himself waking to a gentle touch upon his cheek, a caress that ghosted over his skin trailing warmth and affection.  Hisoka allowed himself a soft moan and pressed into the touch, seeking more contact and receiving a deep, husky chuckle in return.  A thumb brushed over his lower lip fleetingly before the hand moved to cup his face, long, strong-boned fingers twining through his hair and massaging the scalp, a welcome pressure against his sleep-sensitized skin.  

"'Morning, 'soka." Tsuzuki's voice was low and calm, with a slight rasp that indicated that he had not been awake much longer than Hisoka.  Hisoka murmured something incoherent in response, pressing himself against his partner's longer body and savoring the simple pleasure that came from being with another person, his arms wrapping around Tsuzuki's waist.  At the moment, Hisoka could not bring himself to think about the intricacies of Tsuzuki's mind.  The boy curled up in the embrace Tsuzuki loosely draped about him, far too content to wonder why his partner was still here in the morning.  They were breaking their silent vow; Tsuzuki was not _supposed_ to be here.  Yet, Hisoka found himself with a distinct lack of caring.  He wanted to be here, in the lightening darkness that came just before dawn, wrapped in the gentle affection of Tsuzuki's mind.  For once, he found himself glad that he could not sense the 'other' Tsuzuki.  

It occurred to Hisoka then that Tsuzuki was saying something to him, and that he should be responding.  He stirred, forcing himself to move enough to tilt back his head and look at Tsuzuki with bleary green eyes.  Instead, he found himself with his face pressed against the soft skin of Tsuzuki's neck, his partner's steady pulse beating against his cheek.  Hisoka burrowed closer happily.  Tsuzuki laughed again, one hand splaying against his back as he spoke.

"Hisoka, hey, wake up.  I want to show you something." 

After a few moments of coaxing, Tsuzuki managed to persuade Hisoka to climb out of the bed onto wobbly legs.  For a second, Hisoka was tempted to clamber back into the fading warmth of the tangled sheets, the cold floor testing his endurance, but Tsuzuki prevented this by bending down and sweeping his legs from under him and lifting him into his arms.  Hisoka wanted to protest, if only for the ritual of the thing, but Tsuzuki smiled at him.  It was a different smile, full of the everpresent warmth that Tsuzuki always had, but somehow more innocent.  

The crisp, cool night air woke Hisoka fully as Tsuzuki carried him onto the balcony, where a deck chair swathed in blankets awaited them.   The man reclined on the chair, wrapping the blankets firmly around the two of them as they sat, and leaned back, pulling Hisoka with him.  Hisoka opened his mouth to question Tsuzuki, to ask what he thought he was doing, but Tsuzuki pressed a finger against his lip and smiled again.  Warm arms slipped around his waist clasped hands across his lower abdomen and Hisoka automatically rested his own hands on Tsuzuki's, his head falling against Tsuzuki's shoulder.  Lips brushed his ear as Tsuzuki whispered:

"Not yet, Hisoka.  Just wait."

They waited.  There were no words, neither of them willing to break the silent sanctity of night with petty words, both savoring the warmth of the other's body and wondering if this bond would disappear with the rising of the sun.  Steadily, the glow on the horizon grew, hues of pink, purple, and gold staining the midnight blue sky and turning the night clouds into delicate filigree imprints against the brightening heavens.  Hisoka dared not breathe, what had been the common sight of the sunrise seeming somehow more powerful and precious with Tsuzuki awake at his back, his arms settled securely over his hips.  There was the slightest of hesitations before the sun finally crept into the sky, broad golden face beaming shyly at the two seated upon the balcony.  They watched as the sky brightened, as if glad to see its companion, listened as the birds awoke and began to sing, breathed as the air warmed and caressed their faces like a lover's caress…

It was Tsuzuki who moved, pressing a gentle kiss to Hisoka's hair, entwining his fingers with Hisoka's.  Hisoka finally tore his enraptured gaze from the sun to look at their joined hands, the pale splay of his fingers against the darker tones of Tsuzuki's skin, his slender palm dwarfed by Tsuzuki's wider, stronger one.  Tsuzuki pressed another kiss to the back of his neck and spoke, voice hushed.

"I couldn't think of what to get you," he whispered, turning Hisoka in his arms to look at his partner seriously, "Nothing seemed enough.  Finally, I thought I would give you this." He gently slipped one hand from Hisoka's grasp and gestured at the horizon.  "This is all yours, Hisoka."  Yet, Hisoka did not know what he spoke of.  He tilted his head to the side, watching the play of the sunlight in Tsuzuki's iridescent eyes, unable to fathom Tsuzuki's words.  This was neither the Tsuzuki who laughed and played in the office nor the dark Tsuzuki who so rarely appeared; this was another Tsuzuki altogether.  Hisoka felt torn between frustration at this new facet of Tsuzuki that he had found and wonderment at the gentle love he saw in Tsuzuki's eyes.  He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Tsuzuki's.  

"…All this?  Is…" he hesitated and his fingers clenched around Tsuzuki's tightly, "Is this all mine?"  'Are _you_ mine?'  Hisoka wanted to know, 'Do you belong to me as I belong to you?'  There was a long pause before Tsuzuki replied, leaning forward and tilting his head slightly as their lips met in a gentle, brief kiss.  Tsuzuki smiled into Hisoka's astonished gaze and cupped his face with one hand, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb.

"Aa.  Happy birthday, Hisoka.  Are you happy?" 

Hisoka could not give him an answer.  He looked at this new Tsuzuki, with his patience and care and love, and could not answer.  He did not know, and he did not want to lie.  He was stunned, certainly, dismayed by this new facet of a puzzle he never would be able to solve, and yet, he found himself not unhappy.  He looked away.

"…I don't know."  

There was a pause, then Tsuzuki's arms came around him again, drawing him close.  A gentle kiss against his hair, a wave of warmth…

They needed no words.  Yet another intricacy in their relationship, and Hisoka found he no longer cared.  

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The End

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C&C?  God, that ending sucked. 

**Wolf**


End file.
